Magic Burns(88)

What? “No. Not at all.”

“I just want you to know: when I took her off that cross, she was calling his name. Neither you nor I can do anything to break what’s between them.”

“Andrea, I don’t blame you. I don’t blame anyone.” Except myself. “You went out there and tried against impossible odds and almost won, while I played footsie with Bran in the mist.”

I rose. “I’m going to see Jim and then I’ll see about sending a runner to the Order, since the phones are dead.”

She raised her head from the pillow, her eyes wide. “Why?”

After Bran had run out of curses, he’d condescended to explain a few things to me. “From what Bran says, the gray bubble Morfran made is some sort of ancient druidic ward. Morfran is buying time and working the cauldron, packing the sea-demons into that bubble. When it bursts, they will spill out onto the Honeycomb and then onto Warren. We’ll need the knights and MSDU.”

Her face fell. “There will be no help, Kate. Everyone’s gone. Even Maxine.”

“Where the hell did they go?”

“There’s an emergency,” she said softly. “All the knights and the Military Supernatural Defense Units are being pulled to counter it.”

“Andrea, in less than twelve hours, Atlanta will be full of demons. They will kill, feed, and release more demons. What emergency is more important than this one?”

She hesitated. “I’m not supposed to disclose this. There’s a man. His name is Roland…”

I almost punched the wall. “What is he doing that’s so damn crucial? What, is he building another tower? It will fall like all his other ones. Or did his eye finally grow back and he decided to have a battle to celebrate?”

Andrea gently closed her muzzle. “Kate? How do you know that?”

Shit.

“Even I don’t rank high enough to know about the eye and the towers. I was only told because I would be staying behind alone. You’re not even a knight. How do you know this?”

How do I fix this? I have to kill her. Wait, I can’t kill her. She’s my friend.

“Are you planning on walking into Ted’s office after the flare and telling him that you’re beastkin?”

She winced. “No. He’d throw me out. The Order is all I know.”

I nodded. “You have your secrets and I have mine. I didn’t say anything about Roland and you didn’t hear anything.” I offered her my hand. “Deal?”

She hesitated only for a moment. Her fingers grasped mine and I was relieved by their strength. “And I’m not a beastkin. Deal.”

I found Jim in the next room. He sat in the bed, propped up by a pillow, and sharpened a short thick knife with a whetstone.

“You fucking owe me.” He showed me his teeth in an ugly snarl. “You had a beastkin buddy. Didn’t tell me. Made me look like I don’t know my business. Made me look like a fool.”

I came in and sat on the edge of his blanket.

“Get the fuck off my bed.”

I sighed. “How are the legs?”

“Doc says I’ll be walking by tomorrow.” He pointed the knife at me. “Don’t change the fucking subject.”

The same injury would take at least two weeks to heal during normal magic.

“You remember that time you put a rat scout into an apartment above me to spy on me and Crest?” The scout who had heard everything that went on between me and Crest.

“What about him?”

“We’re even.”

He shook his head and went back to sharpening his knife.

“You still here?” he asked a few seconds later.

“Leaving as we speak.” I got up. “Jim…Why did you go?”

He gave me his hard stare. “He promised the child she would be safe. The alpha stands by his word and the Pack stands by the alpha. That’s how it works.”

He went back to his knife, signaling the end of the conversation.





* * * *


I needed to find a sink and splash some water on my face. A small room to the left looked promising. I entered. No bathroom. No furniture, either. Just a straight shot to a square balcony connected to something with an outside stairwell leading to the left.

The door barely had a chance to close behind me before it flew open with a bang. Curran appeared in the doorway. He was human again, but only in shape. Sweat drenched his face. His hands gripped the door frame as if they still had claws. His yellow eyes glowed with feral need. He snarled, his face wrinkling, and rushed past me to the balcony. He burst outside, leaned on the stone rail with both hands, and stared down below.

Alrighty then.

I followed and rested on the rail next to him. A staircase led up to a parapet connecting the main Keep with a half-built tower to the left. When they finally finished this place, they would have to rename it. “Keep” simply didn’t do it. It begged for a more appropriate name like Doom Bastion of Shapeshifter Superiority. Probably with a big sign underscoring the sentiment, in case some dummy failed to get it. Pack to the Outside World: We don’t like you. Stay out!